Conversations From Q-Branch
by ktwontwo
Summary: Q-Branch exists in part to facilitate communication between MI6 and its agents in the field. A series of intermittently published snippets ( 1,000 words) related to Q-branch and its denizens (especially our favorite Quartermaster). Based on a prompt list found on deviantART. Includes crossovers with Sherlock, NCIS, NCIS LA and Hetalia. A part of the 2.5 Holmes 'Verse.
1. Its Like a Puzzle You See

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship).

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - It's Like A Puzzle You See<strong>

"What's your status Q?" James Bond asked over the coms from Q branch.

He was rewarded with a snort, "I suppose your voice in my ear is a direct result of someone thinking it funny to have us communicating the other way round." Q sounded amused. "I'm just finishing up, why?"

Bond kept his voice calm and even, "There's been a bomb threat. The MET is evacuating everything within a block radius of Pimlico Station. Your current location is within the evacuation zone."

"Hopefully it's just a threat," Q replied. "I'd hate to have my experimental node go up in smoke before I had time to test it properly."

"Well I'd hate to have my Quartermaster go up in smoke so I strongly suggest you get moving Q."

James watched as Q's location indicator on the London map currently up on screen in the operations room started to move.

"I suspect they will be sweeping in from the station side so I'll let myself out through the Office for National Statistics," Q commented.

The dot indicating Q's location was under the south end of the National Statistics building when Q spoke again, "Now that's vexing."

"Access blocked? Since we seem to have traded roles you could just shoot the lock," James teased.

"No 007, I've found the bomb."

James looked at R who was busy converting her monitoring of the MET's communications into a two way link.

"Get out of there Q. We'll dispatch the nearest Bomb squad to that location," James ordered.

"Don't bother," was the level reply. "If this timer is correct they won't get here before it goes off."

There were movement sounds over the coms but Q's dot stayed put.

"Q?"

"Hmmm. It's like a puzzle you see. You have to figure out which piece does what and how they connect. Oh, someone has been clever. They've got a mercury switch to set it off if it gets moved."

There were more movement sounds and a couple of metallic clinks. R was talking rapidly in a low voice, presumably to someone at the MET. James didn't say anything for fear of startling Q.

"Very sophisticated," Q continued his monologue. "Redundant triggers, dummy wiring, they didn't want to make this easy. Luckily there's a finite number of ways you can set something like this up and…Ah!"

There was silence for several seconds followed by a distinct snip. James assumed it was the sound of wire cutters slicing through one or more wires. Nothing exploded. There were several more snips then silence.

After 10 seconds or so James ventured a simple "Q?"

There was an audible breath followed by Q's, "It's disarmed now."

"And your status?"

"I'm O.K. James. I must say however that I prefer doing things the normal way."

"Field work isn't for everyone Q," Bond replied.

When thinking about it later Bond had to admit that the flip side of that statement was also true.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Well here we are again with another list. Most of the prompts can be interpreted as lines of dialogue so I decided to use them as such. The prompt list can be found here: art/100-Writing-Prompts-295453283 . Thanks to Tehuti for posting such a neat list where my search engine could find it.


	2. Rain Was Falling

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship). Sherlock Holmes & John Watson.

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Rain was Falling<strong>

Sherlock Holmes was pacing round and round the sitting room in 221B. He'd pause every now and again and peer at the wall where he had tacked up a large map of London and a variety of photographs. The photos were connected to the map and to each other by bits of multicolored string. All in all it looked like a spider on LSD had attempted to spin a web on top of an esoteric piece of modern art. I continued editing my draft blog post.

He stopped suddenly and exclaimed, "There is no way he could have been burgling a shop in Knightsbridge within 10 minutes of being spotted in Bethnal Green. All my deductions indicate he was in Knightsbridge except the eye witness who isn't lying." He looked at the wall again, "But rain was falling and there was no indication of water in the stairwell our witness saw him enter!" he blurted then started pacing again

"Maybe he teleported." I joked not looking up from my laptop then continued, "Could the eye witness have been imagining things? Mistaken a similarly dressed bloke for our burglar?"

"Not with what he was wearing when Lestrade picked him up later that night. It matched the witnesses' description exactly."

Sherlock made another circuit of the sitting room.

"What did the witness see or imagine he saw?" he asked rhetorically then stopped dead in his tracks.

I'd seen this before. Momentarily he'd be off on a new series of deductions or decide that more research on a completely different subject was necessary. This time when he surfaced he grabbed his phone from off the mantle and dialed a number. Now that was different. Sherlock hated to call when he could text instead. In fact there was only one person I knew that he was more likely to call than to text.

"What would it take," he started in without preamble "to project an image on a rainy evening capable of fooling a witness less than half a block away into thinking there was a person there?"

As he listened to the reply his face took on a look I knew well, he was on the verge of a solution to the mystery of the teleporting thief.

"Send me a list and good luck getting your favorite agent to bring your toys back in one piece." He paused then added "No, you only sound that frustrated when the odds of things going cleanly start getting into the 15% range." Sherlock listened a moment longer then said "Yep" and rang off.

Less than 5 minutes later I had a document from Sherlock's younger half-brother Quentin. As befitted the Quartermaster of MI6 it simply opened on my computer with no indication of how it got there.

"What," I asked Sherlock, "do you want me to do with this list of random technology and irrigation system parts?"

"Forward it to Lestrade and tell him to check the alleged burglar's financials for similar purchases. He used a projection on a fine mist of water to fool the witness. The witness didn't notice the curtain of water because it was raining."

I hurried to do as Sherlock asked as he settled into his chair for the first time in at least twelve hours.

Sherlock looked at me then smiled. "When Lestrade confirms do you want Chinese?" was all he said.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong> I was surprised at how quickly this next one came after the first one. As always comments, questions, typo catches and brit picks are welcome either in the reviews or via PM.


	3. There's a Monster in These Hills

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship).

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 – There's a Monster in These Hills<strong>

Q stood by the car and looked down the slope and out across the open moor. The house was nothing but a foundation now and one of the gate posts had completely disintegrated while the other stood tall and proud with its stag header only slightly battered from a stray piece of shrapnel. The stone chapel on the next hill over was old but still looked to be structurally sound having fared much better in the momentous cock up which had been the culmination of the mission code named Skyfall.

He studied his companion. James Bond was also taking in the view. He stood straight and tall the cold wind ruffling his short blond hair. His face was weathered but still handsome; his bright blue eyes scanning the landscape intently looking for god only knew what. Q knew that the scars, both mental and physical, must ache from the piercing cold and from the location.

James was only a few months from mandatory retirement as a 00. It was unusual that a 00 lived long enough to transition out of the program so MI6 was scrambling to figure out how to use all those years of hard won experience. More importantly they were attempting to find something that would keep Bond stable enough to avoid the normal state of Ex-00's, suicide. Q thought that they might have a decent chance by using James as an adjunct to several of the sections, Q-branch included. The key would be variety.

James had already done a training session for the A list agents which had been not only unorthodox but also quite an eye-opener for the powers that be. He had stalked into the class, looked at the training officer and growled "I'll be back here in three hours." He'd then looked at the group of 10 agents and simply said "Follow." Q had found out about the exercise a half-hour later when one of the A-list agents named Ann had called her normal handler to see if she could get some technological assistance in tracking Bond. Since there was nothing "on" at the moment Q had given permission. Tracking Bond, as Q well knew, was quite an undertaking and it would give him a very good assessment of Robert's capacity as a handler. Two and a half hours into the exercise Ann, with Robert's assistance, managed to confront Bond in a local pub less that 10 minutes away from Vauxhall Cross by replacing his half consumed beer with a martini, shaken not stirred. Bond had laughed and accompanied her back to MI6.

Q came out of his musings to see James moving down slope heading in the direction of the Chapel. After a short hesitation Q followed. He entered the chapel to find Bond on one knee beside the first pew. His hand was on the stones tracing the outline of something. Q couldn't see anything on the floor but he knew that Bond was remembering the night when M had bled out in his arms. Q moved closer unsure exactly what to do and heard James mumble something indistinct. James stood then and looked at Q and held out his hand. Q moved to join him. Together they exited the chapel and stood on the steps.

"I wonder" James remarked "if the estate could be repurposed as a training facility. It's remote enough and local legend says there's a monster in these hills."

"Well," Q replied "we could add some verisimilitude to that tale if you'd like. Judging from the reports I had of that little training exercise you ran the other day 'monster' is the least of the names you got called."

"I don't think I would make a good full time monster." James retorted, "At least not right now. I promised her that I'd watch over you lot and besides it's a little too far from a certain evil overlord."

Q knew then that everything would be just fine.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This is the latest story in the timeline for the 2.5 Holmes 'Verse that I've written to date. Enjoy.


	4. It Was Locked

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship).

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 – It Was Locked<strong>

The sound of a muffled shot came through the coms and Q let out an audible sigh but resisted the urge to put his head in his hands.

"I assure you Quartermaster I put my back into it first," James Bond's seductive voice purred in his ears. "It was locked."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> A three sentence fiction that wandered into my brain.


	5. The Sky Was So Heavy

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship).

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5:The sky was so heavy I could almost touch it.<strong>

"That is an absolutely atrocious first sentence," Sherlock commented as he settled in his chair with a plate of takeaway.

He was referring to my draft blog post which happened to be up on my laptop that was sitting on the coffee table. I'd been attempting to write up the most recent case when Quentin, Sherlock's half-brother, had arrived with Thai. Ever since he'd recovered from being kidnapped Quentin had taken to randomly showing up at 221B with food and drink. Given the surveillance that Mycroft kept up on Sherlock I suspect that it was his way of reassuring both his brothers that he was alive and well. It also had the pleasant side effect that, regardless of whether there was a case on or not, Sherlock would actually eat a decent amount of whatever Quentin brought.

Quentin, who was sitting on the sofa, set down his plate and turned the laptop so he could read it.

"It's not that bad Sherlock," he remarked. "In fact it's markedly better than what I get from most of the agents and the entire 00 section." Quentin was one of the few people who could make that statement since he happened to be the Quartermaster of MI6.

Sherlock snorted.

"No," Quentin continued, "I get an AAR with the statement _the phone casing failed under extreme stress conditions_ when what actually happened was the agent attempted to use it to stop a blast door from closing."

"That still doesn't make the first sentence any better," Sherlock said around a mouthful of Pad See Ew. "_The sky was so heavy I could almost touch it_…really John you couldn't be more original?"

"Oi," I objected "It's a blog post. I'm not expecting to win a Booker or a Bulwer-Lytton for it!"

I looked up from my plate and noticed that I was the recipient of two identical _I don't understand the reference_ Holmesian stares.

"Mann-Booker prize…best original novel in English published in the U.K.?"

That earned me an _Obviously_ look from Quentin and a _Really John, fiction?_ one from Sherlock.

"Well a Bulwer-Lytton is sort of the reverse," I hastened to explain. "Bulwer-Lytton was a Victorian novelist whose most famous published work started with the phrase _It was a dark and stormy night_. Well some English professor in California got the idea to have a bad writing contest to determine the worst first sentence of a fictional novel. If you think mine was bad you should see what they give awards to on an annual basis."

Quentin started typing one handed on my laptop. After a couple of clicks he almost choked on what he was eating because he was trying not to laugh. Sherlock grabbed the laptop and started reading. His eyebrows went up

That was the start of a rather interesting and enjoyable couple of hours. The commentary on the Bulwer-Lytton winners as provided by Quentin was not only scathing but also hysterically funny. Sherlock's deductions about the writers themselves as based on syntax, word choice and punctuation were interesting. I, of course, had to occasionally explain a pop culture reference.

After we'd dissected the last of the winners Sherlock slumped in his chair and remarked "Well now I'm going to have to delete all those tortured sentences. Although the exercise wasn't completely useless, I now know that your writing could be much, much worse."

I took his statement as a compliment while Quentin just started laughing again.

"Oh Sherlock," he said, "If you thought those were bad you really need to see this fantasy novella that one of my techs brought back from a science fiction convention!"

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I suppose explanations of the references must be in order. Information on the Booker prize may be found on the web (search Booker prize) and on Wikipedia under Man Booker Prize. The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is real. It is the brainchild of a professor in the English Department of San Jose State University in California and has its own website (search Bulwer-Lytton). The rules are simple and entries are due (sort of) by April 15 (really June 30) if you feel inclined. Word to the wise, don't read the winners while drinking anything. It may be hazardous to your keyboard. The fantasy novella referenced is _The Eye of Argon_ (See the Wikipedia entry The Eye of Argon). It is often used as a game at conventions where people attempt to read it aloud with all mistakes as written. The idea is to see how far someone can get without giggling. Its good fun regardless of whether you are drinking gin or juice. There's even a link in the Wikipedia article to both the text and the rules for staging a competitive reading.


	6. Why Did You Bring Me Here?

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship).

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 6 – Why Did You Bring Me Here?<strong>

James Bond was like a fine wine. He became more complex and subtle with age. That was why, despite my familiarity with him and his habits, I was unable to deduce his intent when he stuck his head into my office.

"Do you think the minions can get along without you for a week?" he asked with no preamble.

I thought for a moment. Nothing critical was on deck at the moment, "I suppose."

"Good," he replied. "I squared it with M. You are officially off for a week. We're leaving in 20."

I gathered my wits about me enough to sputter before he disappeared, "Should I pack anything specific?"

"Just your personal electronics" he said as he let the door swing shut behind him.

When I exited my office 15 minutes later he was standing talking to R and holding a medium sized briefcase.

Shirley looked over at me and said "You're all set boss. I'll keep the branch from getting into too much trouble while you are gone!"

I wasn't too sure about that. Some of the R&D folks were dangerous without decent supervision. Something must have shown on my face or R just knew the way I thought.

"Don't worry," she said "I can always lock R&D out of the labs and make them write proposals and catch up on their reports."

Well that was one way to deal with things. I noticed that as she had been talking Bond had been carefully maneuvering me so that I was almost out the door. This would prove a good test to see how R and the branch reacted without my direct oversight. I decided that any last minute instructions would be superfluous and insulting so I simply turned and proceeded James out the door.

Shortly we were headed north at speed in Bond's Aston Martin. Before we got too far along I made sure that there was a _do not stop_ order on the plates. It just wouldn't do to spoil my appreciation of James' driving prowess by having to deal with the local constabulary.

I expected a high end hotel in Glasgow but instead we ended up in a cozy bed and breakfast. Given the direction we took in the morning I thought we were headed to Skyfall but once again my deductions proved incorrect. We didn't end up at the estate but swapped out the Aston for a slightly battered Land Rover in Glencoe and were soon traveling on something that might have at one time, in the distant past, been a road. At that point I gave up attempting to determine our destination and proceeded to enjoy the scenery.

Less than half an hour of jolting over the countryside later we pulled up at an ancient fieldstone cottage. Judging from its appearance it had been there since at least the 1600's and had undergone a variety of renovations over the years. When we entered the foyer I was pleased to note electrical outlets and lighting in addition to period typical accoutrements.

James chuckled at my surprise and said, "Wind and solar to a battery bank in the basement. There is also a small gen set in the barn. You won't lack power for your toys Q."

I turned to face him then. I was still confused about what this was all about and nothing he'd said or done on the trip thus far had given me any clue. I supposed I would just have to take the direct approach.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He didn't reply but instead led me into the main sitting room and indicated I should sit. I did. James busied himself with lighting a fire and once it had caught sat down opposite me. Finally he spoke.

"This has been mine for years. The Kincaid's have kept it up for me. I suppose you could call it the oldest of my safe houses in more ways than one." He paused to look at me for a long moment. "From time to time I come here to think."

My original question still hung there between us unanswered. I gave him a look.

He rested his elbows on his knees and stared into the fire. "You know I never really expected to get this far. I…" his voice trailed off.

It dawned on me then exactly why he had brought me along. I was there as an anchor; a tangible reminder that there were other options available once his time as a 00 was complete.

"Ah" I said, sparing him the effort to articulate something he clearly wasn't yet able to express.

I stood and moved to him then, setting myself down on the floor next to his chair. He started a bit when I leaned against his leg. I doubt he'd been aware until that moment that I had moved. He relaxed a bit and his hand migrated to rest on my head, fingers combing through my hair. All was quiet as we watched the fire together.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This particular snippet occurs just before Chapter 3. James is a month or two shy of 45, the mandatory retirement age for the 00 program.

I fixed a couple of typos in earlier chapters. Feel free to let me know if you happen to see any others or find any blatant Americanisms.


	7. I Keep Having The Same Dream

**Title: ** Conversations From Q Branch

**Parings: ** James Bond & Q; James Bond/Q (ranging in time from pre-relationship to relationship).

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights. I make no profit.

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><p><strong>Chapter 7 – I keep having the same dream<strong>

"Talk to me Q." James Bond's voice was quiet over the coms.

Q knew that this was not an invitation to engage in the snarky flirtatious banter for which the two of them had become famous or, as some in MI6 would assert, infamous. No that was reserved for high stress situations. This was a request for another type of conversation entirely. One that few even in Q-branch even knew occurred. Q put the com feed into private mode for his ears only.

"Any preference as to subject 007?"

"Not really."

Bond was currently on top of a building in Prague with a sniper rifle waiting for his target to leave a party. Every agent dealt with waiting differently. James often would prefer to talk. Q thought momentarily. Bond would need a subject engaging enough to help keep him alert but not engrossing to the point of losing focus. Luckily James was such a consummate professional that Q knew he could engage his agent in a discussion of anything from weapons design to Greek philosophy without jeopardizing the mission.

Before he could suggest a subject Bond's voice broke into his musings. "You weren't around during my set up. You playing around with something interesting in the labs?"

"Mandatory psychological eval," Q grumbled.

"Oh, how did they get you to do that? You are usually better than I am about avoiding those."

"M caught me at the end of a meeting and gave a direct order. Moneypenny delivered me."

"So you had a fun afternoon with word associations," Bond's tone was sarcastic.

"Actually not. They've got a new twist now, recurring dreams."

"They've always asked agents about nightmares. Welcome to the club."

"No, this is different. They wanted to know about those dreams that seem to keep coming up over and over but do not seem to be connected to any specific event like most nightmares are."

"Interesting," Bond sounded curious. "Any tips?"

"Not really. I tend to get recurring themes as opposed to the same dream; mostly along the lines of watching and listening to events or even predicting them."

"That's hardly a surprise considering."

"They said I was working too much and recommended time off."

"You hacked the report as soon as it was written and removed the time off recommendation didn't you."

"Damn straight."

"I wonder what they'll say about mine. I keep having the same dream. I've never been able to figure out what triggers it but I've had it on and off since I first enlisted in the Navy."

Q was a bit surprised at the turn of the conversation. Bond usually wasn't so open about personal information especially over the coms. He was clearly expecting that Q would edit this discussion completely out of the mission logs. Q was flattered by the unspoken declaration of trust.

"Really?"

"In it I'm a Knight."

"In shining armor?" Q had to ask.

"Rather battered armor actually. It's a battlefield and I've just taken a sword out of a dead man's hand. I know the sword is important and that I need to preserve and protect it until he comes to claim it again."

"He?"

"Unspecified. Dreams don't have to make sense Q."

"Interesting."

"What's even stranger is that my subconscious seems to have a fine eye for detail. The armor is period typical for 5th century Britain but the sword seems to be somewhat older."

"Must have been rather vivid to allow you to remember and identify things that specifically."

"Not really. I was fascinated with medieval history when I was in school. I suspect that I'm imposing that knowledge over what I remember. In fact the whole thing is probably a rehash of some famous battle that impressed me."

"Well I think you are correct, the shrinks are going to have a field day with that one. Probably tell you that you have an overly developed since of duty or something."

Bond didn't respond immediately. His breathing pattern had changed. Q switched the coms back to the main speakers. "Site Rep?"

"Target's car has been brought around. Bodyguard is talking to the valet. Shouldn't be long now."

"Acknowledged." Q rechecked that he had all the potential exit routes at his fingertips as well as the preliminary hacks in place just in case he needed to disrupt local communications.

It was less than a minute later when Bond said, "I have visual" followed shortly thereafter by the sound of a single shot. "Target down." Bond remarked echoing what Q had seen on one of the surveillance cameras.

"Ok 007 let's get you out of there hopefully with both you and your equipment in one piece this time," said Q as he proceeded to go to work.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Yes, that was a plot bunny that you saw hopping through this snippet.


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